FURTHUR FESTIVAL

In the wake of Jerry Garcia's death and the Grateful Dead's subsequent decision to bring their 30-year-long, strange trip to a close, nearly everyone in the concert industry wondered where all the Deadheads would go. Little wonder. By the '90s, the Dead's shows had become as much a dependable revenue-generating machine as they were an ubiquitous cultural phenomenon.

\\Last year's inaugural Furthur Festival seemed to answer the question, as Los Lobos, Hot Tuna and two Grateful Dead off-shoots (Bob Weir's Ratdog and Mickey Hart's Planet Drum) shared a summer bill that gave audiences and musicians alike a chance to commiserate about Garcia's passing and celebrate the Dead's legacy. Retooled for a more competitive summer concert market, this year's model -- featuring the Black Crowes, Planet Drum, Arlo Guthrie, Ratdog, Jorma Kaukonen, Bruce Hornsby and others -- expanded beyond just tie-dye territory to include a variety of acts that share the Dead's musical roots and references.

\\After brief, if unremarkable, opening sets by hippies-in-training Moe and smoky troubadour Sherri Jackson, Bruce Hornsby -- who toured with the Grateful Dead in their waning days -- was the first to reach into the group's musical canon with a genial treatment of "Brokedown Palace." The crowd swayed for the Dead covers but also embraced such Hornsby hits as "Mandolin Rain" and "The Valley Road" with surprisingly equal enthusiasm. Hot Tuna guitarist Jorma Kaukonen received a more restrained reaction for a technically impressive but emotionally flat set of acoustic blues. Serving as both MC and performer, Arlo Guthrie was as effusive as he was charming, confessing to the crowd that he didn't actually remember being at Woodstock until he watched the movie with his teenage daughter.

\\Despite an array of talent that stretched from the folkie (Guthrie) to the frenzied (the Crowes), it was clear that many concert-goers made the trip to see the Dead -- even in their splinter-group configurations. Weir's Ratdog offered the greatest hope to those in the whirling dervish pits that the mystical, rock vibe that lay at the heart of the Dead's music could be revived. For his part, Weir seemed perfectly at ease journeying through his past, and his band, which included veteran session man Rob Wasserman on bass, tore through several Dead and Bob Dylan classics, including "Playing in the Band" and "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue."

\\But just as Bob Weir should be encouraged, Mickey Hart should be stopped. Hart's Planet Drum taxed the audience's patience with a six-percussionist-one-bassist experiment made even more insufferable by a series of samples and loops provided by accompanying drum machines. The overall effect of such drum corps cacophony sounded like a limpid cross between New Age Muzak and the soundtrack for "Logan's Run" and was the festival's only major disappointment.

\\Headliners the Black Crowes stormed the stage with "Cursed Diamond," purging themselves of the neo-psychedelic trappings that the Dead themselves shed during their own blues period. Apparently having settled the sibling turmoil that mired their last two albums, the Crowes' murderous mix of old and new cock rockin' beats proved their Southern-fried confections haven't lost their witchy potency. Such a flamboyant display of no-holds-barred rock & roll would have been out of place at last year's more solemn concert/wake, but by opting for guitar-driven barbs over such trip-happy Dead emulators like Phish, the Furthur Festival lived up to its name -- which is